tattoo shop window

if people were elements,
then we are ice and fire.

your touch is frost upon my burning skin,
my breath melts your frozen heart.
your kiss is cool against my lips,
and my heat warms you all the way down
to the tips of your toes.

and although we could complement each other,
beckon the other away from the end of polarity
to come and meet in the middle,
too much of one

will eliminate the other.

—  and i’d never forgive myself if i caused your destruction, c.j.n.
Stoned love

Stop messing round with that fire,
Living like love is just a gun for hire,
Cos one moment its just messing round,
To your wiki saying she’s your spouse,
Oh but its not just girls,
Cos yeah one moment I was tearing off her blouse,
Now she says she’s living in my house,

Babe I know you said you’d never smoke pot,
Its just; that burned Like your first splif,
Now we just hanging around in the dark, you’re pale as a ghost.
Stop messing round now, cos am too stoned,
You’re know I can’t save you cos in this game am too gone,

She’s only seventeen, and thinks at sixteen am all there is,
But a degenerate kind, baby am definitely not what you need,
She wants to dance with devil, Mr brownstone is just grave,
Oh Y’know the drugs will drown her out, just too young,
Can’t believe this is my life, smoking and fucking in the back,

anonymous asked:

for the prompts- 85

#85- It doesn’t bother me

Well, nonnie, it might have taken me a while, I have not stopped working on these. And here’s the evidence. As always, you can find this on and if you would be so kind as to leave a review there or even just a few nice comments in the tags, I will be ever grateful. Also, I have no idea where that ending came from. I don’t think I’ve ever been capable of something so perfect…so maybe, I an alien took over my brain? Dunno, anyways, enjoy! I hope you like it. (P.S. I’m also knocking out #2, “It reminded me of you” for @sammmtacular,)

Dawn came early when you couldn’t sleep.

Very early.

“You still awake, love?”

“Yeah,” Emma replied.

She wished she wasn’t. She wished that she could get through a single damn night without dreams ripping her apart inside. She wished Killian wouldn’t insist on staying up with her.

Tonight had been worse than usual.

Every time she tried to close her eyes, the nightmare bloomed back into vivid, gruesome color across the backs of her eyelids. She never found out what might happen when if she finally got back to sleep. She reacted automatically, eyes flying open every time. In the end, Emma settled for staring at the ceiling with the Killian’s solid warmth to ground her.

She had hoped he at least would get some sleep.

His arm curled around her, pulling her into him as the curtains covering their bedroom windows turned slightly pink.

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked, his fingers brushing against her hip, slipping beneath the waistband of her pajama pants to trace the curve of her hipbone.

Emma let her silence answer. She knew what his question would be. Killian wanted to know about her dreams. The words had lingered in his eyes every night for the last week, ever since she unlocked the bathroom door. He wanted to share the burden, like always, she just hadn’t been ready to volunteer that information.

She didn’t want to think about it, let alone talk about it.

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